


And this has just begun

by velithya



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spy, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Wings, F/F, I REGRET NOTHING, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Spies & Secret Agents, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Violence, Werewolves, Wingfic, it practically wrote itself, this was so much fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velithya/pseuds/velithya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lightning's such a sucker for a beautiful woman with an amazing smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And this has just begun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Fang x Lightning](http://fang-lightning.dreamwidth.org) DW/LJ comm [AU FEST](http://fang-lightning.dreamwidth.org/15139.html)! My trope selections were SPIES, SUPERNATURAL and WINGFIC (such a sucker for wingfic goddammit). Happy New Year!
> 
> Title from Drive, Melissa Ferrick.

**And this has just begun**

"Get down!"

Lightning drops to the ground as the shots whiz over her head in one direction, and then a dark shape flashes over her going the other way. The soldiers start yelling, and then there's a lot of snarling and screaming, and then the yelling stops.

"Okay, now we run," the woman says, standing in the centre of the carnage with blood streaked up her hands and across her mouth. "This way."

And that's how Lightning meets Fang.

***

So, a little backstory. It all started with the military, right, and the magical science guys, and their experiments, and-

Okay, summary: it's like this. Serah got hit with this experimental drug, and now she's in stasis. Lightning's only got a certain amount of time to find the cure, because, get this, while she was... _interrogating_ one of the magical science guys, she got stabbed with some damn thing as well. Serah's stasis is slowing the progress of her infection down, but Lightning's not so lucky. 

So she's got to find the cure in time for both of them, because she's seen what happened to the other people who were injected with these drugs. If you could call them people anymore.

She's not going to let that happen to Serah. (She's not so fussed about what happens to her, but that's probably the training talking. Probably.) Oh yeah, and since the magical science guys were a little pissed about her, ah, _interrogation_ -

Well let's just say that she's having to dodge her own damn squadmates as well.

It's not like there's a war on, or anything.

***

They think Pulse started the magical science stuff, and Cocoon wasn't too far behind (wasn't going to be _left_ behind). But that's just what she was taught in school; for all she knows, Cocoon started the whole damn thing.

She'd thought better of them before, but now they're hunting her like a, heh, like a dog, so maybe she was wrong.

She might have been wrong about a lot of things, in fact.

But she does know that Pulse has had werewolves on the front lines for a lot longer than Cocoon has managed (and even Cocoon's excuse for werewolves are the best the magical science guys could come up with, and that's not much).

She has got to find a better (shorter) name than 'magical science guys'.

***

So she's being hunted down like a dog, wondering when she'll feel the first effects of the infection, when she gets cornered. And then-

"Get down!"

She should probably care more about the soldiers who just got slaughtered, but since they were going to shoot her like an animal, she can't really muster much regret.

***

The woman wipes the back of her hand across her face, but it doesn't help, just smears the blood around.

"I'm Fang, by the way," she says as they run.

"I'm-"

"Lightning, I know," Fang says, and she can talk and run flat-out without even breathing heavy. "Been tracking you a while."

"You - what-" Lightning says, because it's been a long day and she is fucking tired, okay, bone-deep, and if this is a setup-

"Don't worry, I'm here to help," Fang says, and then completely falsifies that when she says "I'm from Pulse."

"You're _what_ ," Lightning says, and even though she's still running she pulls her gun, has it aimed square at Fang's head. She's not sure _what_ Fang is, although _werewolf_ is pretty close to the top of the list, but she's pretty sure that a headshot will kill almost anything. (Has pretty conclusive first-hand evidence of that fact, actually.)

Fang just _smirks_. "You want your cure?" she says, and she's _still running_ , casual, like she does this every day. "Because if not, you can just go ahead and shoot me. Not that it'll make much difference to me."

Lightning's really tempted to just go ahead and shoot her. But, but. If she has access to the _cure_ -

"Tell me about the cure," Lightning says.

"Do you have a sample of what you were stabbed with," Fang says.

"What, so you can give it to your magical science guys?" Lightning says, and huh. She's talking and running and holding a gun on Fang and it turns out that she can do that without breathing heavy either. "Because I don't trust your magical science guys anymore than I trust my magical science guys, and I don't trust mine more than I can _throw_ them."

"'Magical science guys' is a pretty long name," Fang says.

"What do you call yours?" Lightning asks.

"Mostly I just call them _assholes_ ," Fang says, grinning, and fuck shit goddammit, Lightning's such a sucker for a beautiful woman with an amazing smile.

Turns out a face covered in blood isn't really a turn off.

***

When they're somewhere a little more secure, where they can catch their breath for a while (not that there's much breath to catch between the two of them) and Fang can wash the blood off her face and hands, Lightning spins her gun in her hands and asks again, "Tell me about the cure."

"Last I checked, your assholes were working on at least thirty five different varieties of bullshit," Fang says. Lightning had only known about twenty seven, so either Fang's bluffing or she's a better spy than Lightning's giving her credit for. "So you're going to have to be a little bit more specific."

"It's not just me," Lightning says. "My sister got injected with something first."

Fang swings around to stare at her. "How long ago?"

"She's in stasis now," Lightning says, "injected two days ago."

"Did you get hit with the same thing?" Fang says, and Lightning shrugs helplessly.

"I don't know, I didn't even see the guy who hit me," she says.

Fang snorts. "So your sister gets injected, and you go after the assholes who did it only to wind up infected yourself, you have no idea with what, and now you're on the run with no intel and no leads."

Lightning shoots her in the head.

Turns out, Fang was right about the kind of difference that would make to her.

***

"You always prone to fits of anger characterised by wild aggression?" Fang says, before she even opens her eyes.

Lightning blinks as Fang sits up, wiping the blood from her forehead with the pad of her thumb.

"Nice aim, by the way," Fang says, and smirks.

"What the fuck _are_ you?" Lightning says.

"Fang," Fang says. "So, surges of anger, wild aggression? Is that normal for you?"

Lightning grits her teeth against the rush in her blood that urges her to tear and fight. "No."

"Well that rules out ten of those thirty five," Fang says. "Hmm."

"How can you just-" Lightning says. "I just _shot_ you. _In the head_."

"Yep," Fang says. "If you'll notice, I walked it off, so. Not so much with the caring."

Lightning takes a deep breath, and puts the safety back on her gun before she shoots Fang again.

***

"Okay," Fang says after five increasingly irritating minutes of complete silence. "Time to gather some intel."

"Where?" Lightning says.

***

"Sazh," Fang says, breezing into the back room of the shady bar without so much as a care in the world, Lightning trailing in her wake. She doesn't know how Fang is a Pulse agent when she keeps this kind of unsubtle profile. "I need a favour."

"No more favours for you," Sazh says, not even looking up from his terminal. "I got a son to think about."

"Totally understand," Fang says, "which is why I am also accompanying this request for a favour with a large amount of untraceable cash."

"What do you want?" Sazh asks.

"Hack _where_?" Sazh says.

"You can't be serious," Sazh says.

Fang jerks a thumb at Lightning and says, "Her sister's life is at stake, how old is she again?"

"Fuck," Sazh says, and Fang grins, showing her teeth.

***

Sazh tells them to come back in four hours.

***

"How are you feeling?" Fang asks, and Lightning snarls at her.

Like, actually snarls. She can feel the vibrations all the way down to her toes.

"Hmm," Fang says.

***

Fang exchanges a credit chip for a key at the bar and they trek down rickety stairs into the basement.

"Why are we here?" Lightning asks, and Fang turns around and slugs her right across the jaw.

It fucking hurts, and Lightning snarls at her, leaping forward, hands curled into claws.

She slices a glancing blow across Fang's shoulder, tearing four parallel lines straight through the fabric, and oh that's _blood_ under her claws, hot and fresh. She leaps forward, leading with her mouth, ready to tear Fang to shreds, and then the world spins and she's facefirst on the rough floor, her whole body vibrating with the snarl that rumbles at her ear, sharp teeth closing against the side of her neck.

" _Down_ ," Fang growls, breath hot against her throat, teeth pricking a warning.

Lightning snarls helplessly, writing underneath her, but Fang's too strong, has her pinned. Fang's teeth tighten a fraction, and just like that something unwinds in her and the tension floods out, leaving her limp and exhausted on the floor.

The teeth at her neck disappear. "There you go," Fang says softly, and drops down at her side, long line of warmth all along her back. "Rest now. I'll keep watch."

***

Fang pokes her awake. With her boot.

"Fuck you," Lightning snarls, but there's no heat in it.

"Any time," Fang says, and smirks. Fuck. "It's been four hours, come on."

***

Sazh has information for them when they get back; a list of the thirty-five drugs currently in development and testing by the Cocoon assholes; schematics of their testing laboratories; security camera coverage and patrol times.

"You really came through," Fang says, and slides a credit chip over the table. "Here's my end of the bargain."

Sazh looks tired. "Good luck," he says.

***

They narrow down the symptoms Serah was having to five of the thirty-five; Lightning's reactions so far are much more common, found across a full twenty of the thirty-five.

"Well, there's nothing for it," Fang says. "We'll have to break in."

"With what army?" Lightning asks, because now that she fucked up the local lab, the next closest to get into involves a thousand foot drop, and she's fresh out of rope that magically stretches that far. (That's the sarcastic kind of magic, not the actual kind of magic, if you were wondering.)

Fang smiles, and it's all teeth.

***

"How, exactly, are we supposed to get down?" Lightning asks, strapping down the last buckle on her harness.

"You remember when you shot me in the head and I walked it off?" Fang asks, stepping up behind her and hooking two lines from her harness onto Lightning's.

"Kind of hard to forget," Lightning says.

"Well," Fang says, "I'm not a werewolf," and pushes Lightning off the edge.

***

She has her gun out of her holster on reflex, even though it won't do her any good, before she hears Fang snort just behind her and remembers they're roped together.

"Put that away before you drop it," Fang says, and then, "right, okay-"

They jolt in the air, suddenly falling much slower, and Lightning cranes her head around to see _wings_ curving through the air in front of her. Fucking _wings_.

"What the fuck," she says, holstering her gun.

"Told you," Fang says.

***

Fang lands them - _lands_ them, because she has _fucking wings_ \- neatly on the roof of the building, a step from the nearest entrance. The wings are blink-and-you-miss-it gone, and Fang unclips the straps from her harness and pulls out a black chip, pressing it to the lock.

A moment later the lock blinks green and the door slides open.

Well. That was easier than expected.

***

"I thought it was going too well," Lightning mutters to Fang as the hail of bullets fly over their heads.

"Yeah, well," Fang says. "How's that info going?"

Lightning thumps the terminal with the side of her hand, and what do you know, it spits out what she's after. That's never worked for her before.

"Subject Serah Farron," Lightning reads, "variety 9835.5A."

"Five A, five A," Fang mutters, banging on the side of her terminal. "Fuck, that worked for you."

"Guess I'm just special," Lightning shoots back, and it's her turn to smirk at Fang's pointed look.

"Special all right," Fang mutters, and then her terminal beeps and she snaps her attention back. "Sublevel 8, got the schematic, get yours."

Lightning keys in the new search command, but before she can do anything else one of the bullets takes out the entire terminal in a spray of sparks and it goes dead.

" _Fuck_ ," Fang says.

"Fuck it," Lightning says, because she got into this because of Serah, and damned if she's going to waste time wringing her hands when they could be finding Serah's cure. "Serah's more important right now, let's go. Sublevel 8, how the fuck are we going to get there?"

Fang's turning the schematic around in her hands, and then smiles. "Oh, I know a way."

***

Turns out, the lift shaft isn't quite wide enough for Fang's wingspan.That's okay though, because while she's deadweight hanging from Lightning's harness, Lightning rigs up a slide and rides them nice and easy down fifteen levels. What's less okay were the noises Fang made when the edges of her wings slammed into the sides of the lift; Lightning could hear the little _snap snap snap_ sounds clear as day, right before Fang let out a shuddery moan that probably wanted to be a scream and went totally limp.

It's the kind of sound that would ordinarily feature heavily in Lightning's dreams if it were in a different context. This context, though, it's more likely to be nightmares.

She knows something more now, though: Fang not-a-werewolf from Pulse totally has a weakness.

"Hey, deadweight," Lightning says, because Fang has been a sarcastic bitch for most of the day and it's Lightning's turn for a little payback. "We're here, up and at 'em."

" _Fuck_ ," Fang slurs, and Lightning jimmies the doors open and swings them neatly into the hallway. 

Well, she lands neatly anyway. Out of deference to Fang's wings she doesn't just dump her on the ground, but it's a near thing.

"Come _on_ ," Lightning says. "You have the schematic and we're wasting time."

There's a blur of motion in the corner of her vision, and then Fang's wings are - blink! - gone and she's pushing to her feet. "Fuck you," she mutters, but she glances around, gets her bearings, and they're moving.

***

There are only two syringes. Of course.

They pack each of them into little metal syringe cases, insulated and padded. Lightning takes one, Fang the other.

"We could still-" Fang offers, and Lightning shakes her head.

"Let's not get caught now," she says. "Are your wings working yet?"

***

Even though they're on Sublevel 8, they're still on the side of a fucking mountain. It's easy enough to blow out one of the windows and make a jump for it, Fang gliding them easy away from the complex.

"Where's your sister?" she asks, and isn't that a loaded question.

"I," Lightning starts and Fang snorts.

"Seriously?" she says. "Look, you're not dead yet, okay? You still have options. So why don't we get this to your sister and make sure she's okay and then we'll fucking talk, okay?"

Lightning's mouth twists, but fucking fuck it, she's trusted Fang so far.

"Okay," she says.

***

Serah's right where she left her, Snow standing guard at the doorway.

"Sis, did you find it?" he asks, jumping up as she comes into the room. His gaze snaps to Fang immediately. "Who's this?"

"Down boy," Fang says absently, and Lightning shakes her head.

"Someone who helped me. We have the cure, Snow."

Snow can't clear the doorway fast enough; Lightning steps inside and there's Serah, in the stasis field, small and so, so still.

"She's smaller than I expected," Fang comments, but there's no bite to her tone and Lightning ignores her.

She deactivates the field, listening as it whirrs down, and then Serah's blinking open her eyes, catching and holding Lightning's gaze.

"Light?" she says, and Lightning nods, holding up the syringe case.

"We got it," she says, and Serah breathes out in relief.

"Thank you," she whispers, and then turns her eyes to Fang, standing next to Lightning, still. " _Thank you_."

"Don't thank me yet," Fang mutters.

***

They give her both of the syringes. Just in case. (She wouldn't put it past those assholes to have some kind of combination cure, needs both to be effective.)

"How long-" Lightning says, and Fang shrugs. 

"Too long," she says. "Let lover boy here watch her, we've got things to do."

"Yeah, okay," Lightning says.

***

They wind up at an apartment that might be Fang's. Lightning's not sure, and she doesn't really care besides.

"So," Fang says. "Fact: we can't get your cure in time."

"I've seen what happened to those other 'test subjects'," Lightning says. "I would rather let you you shoot me in the head than have that happen to me."

"Fact:" Fang says, "I can help you."

" _How_?" Lightning says.

***

Turns out Cocoon is a bunch of liars. Assuming she believes Fang.

***

Fang's a shapeshifter. The _first_ shapeshifter, been in stasis five hundred years while Pulse and Cocoon assholes tried this and that with her blood, trying to replicate with an edge of control, get just this or that without their test subjects going insane or feral or exploding. (It's a thing, apparently.)

Eventually, Pulse woke her up. And Fang... was not impressed.

Understatement.

***

"It's a _gift_ ," Fang snarls. That's a literal snarl, and Lightning can see the edge of her literal fangs, and oh, that should not be a turn on right now.

Maybe she can blame the infection. (She'd be lying, but it's all about the plausible deniability at this point. She'll take what she can get.)

"They've warped and twisted it, and it's wrong, and I'm going to stop them."

"Why haven't you?" Lightning asks, and Fang's mouth twists.

***

Turns out, Fang has a sister too.

Well, shit.

***

"So getting back to how you can help me," Lightning says.

"Right," Fang says. "Well, a straight hit of my blood should be enough to override whatever bullshit your assholes have laced you with."

"There's a but," Lightning says, because there always is.

"But," Fang says, "if it works, you'll end up like me."

"Shapeshifter," Lightning says.

"Won't be insane, feral, or exploded," Lightning says.

"Can be shot in the head and 'walk it off'," Lightning says, making air quotes with her fingers.

"Asshole," Fang says, but she's grinning.

"I'm not seeing the downside," Lightning says.

***

"Also," Fang says, "you might go a little feral in the middle there. But I'll help you through it."

"What do you mean, a little feral?" Lightning says.

"Base instincts," Fang says. "Flight, fight, fuck."

_Fuck_.

***

It's this or go crazy. Or maybe explode. It's not really a choice.

"Do it," Lightning says.

***

Fang sticks a needle in her arm and draws up a _massive_ syringe of blood.

"Ready?" she says, and Lightning lies down on the rug on the floor.

"Not really," she says, and rolls up her sleeve.

"Three, two," Fang says, and shoves the needle in.

"Mother _fucker_ -" Lightning gasps, feeling every millimetre of pressure as Fang presses down on the plunger.

After approximately one million years, she pulls the needle out, one finger on Lightning's arm to cover the wound, and tosses the syringe in the vague direction of the kitchen.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

Lightning opens her mouth to tell her to fuck off, it's only been ten seconds, and then she's arching off the the floor with an inarticulate noise as every muscle in her body spasms at once, fingers scrabbling at the rug.

"Good to know," Fang says.

***

She shakes and shakes. She's too hot; she's too cold. She's convulsing, Fang holding her down, one hand under her head so she doesn't hurt herself.

She thinks exploding might be less painful than this.

***

She's lying on the floor, and then she's hit with a barrage of sensory input, smell and touch and hearing and sight. There's a person next to her, and if she lays still for just another moment she can leap all at once, take them by surprise, and then-

She twists, and there's a startled noise as the other person goes down hard, and then she's crouching over them on all fours, pinning them.

She's pleased, easy prey, and lowers her head to sniff at their throat, gets snarled at for her trouble. She snarls back, licks a stripe across their collarbone, and oh, _oh_ , maybe she doesn't want to fight them after all, taste/smell overwhelming her. It's like nothing she's ever felt before, and her mouth is watering with the need to get back to their skin, smell and taste, and then she's moving, slamming on her back.

The person snarls at her, positions reversed and fangs sharp in her face, and she purrs back at them, because she doesn't want to fight at all, lets her knees fell apart, tries to twist her hips up.

She gets a purr back in response, and they duck their head, nosing into her throat, and yes, that's exactly what she wants, sharp little nips into her neck and then-

***

Lightning blinks open gritty eyes. She's facedown on the rug, and she's tired, but she feels... okay. Different. She shifts a little, trying to get a sense of her own body, and that's a bright spark of pain from her neck.

"What," she says, and her voice is gravel. "What happened."

"You don't remember?" Fang asks, and Lightning can _hear_ the smirk in her tone.

"I cannot deal with you today," Lightning mumbles into the rug. "Just, what. My neck, fuck."

" _Well_ ," Fang says, and Lightning is not going to like this, but she has to know. "Somewhere after you trying to rip my throat out and you trying to have sex with me, I bit you."

"You bit me," Lightning says, flat, because she cannot process the rest of what Fang's saying. She tried to have sex with Fang, and she doesn't even remember it. _Fuck_.

"We're shapeshifters, yes," Fang says, "but we all have a few animals we're closest too. One of mine - one of yours now - is the wolf."

"And." Lightning says.

"Well," Fang says. "Wolves run in packs."

"And." Lightning says.

"And now you won't try to have sex with me or kill me instinctually," Fang says. "Unless I _really_ piss you off," she adds, teasing, and just. Fuck Lightning's life.

***

Fang gives her ten minutes of trying to become one with the rug.

It's five more than what Lightning expected, but she supposes she did just have an entire magical science body transformation overnight. She uses the extra five to try and decide whether she regrets not being able to remember what happened when she tried to have sex with Fang.

She still can't decide.

***

"Shower, food, plan," Fang says, poking. The toe of her boot seems much pointier post-transformation.

A shower, though, that sounds like the best idea in the _world_.

***

The bathroom's an en-suite off the bedroom, and the whole room _reeks_ of Fang. It's not unpleasant, just powerful to her post-transformation senses.

It's a little overwhelming, in fact, but it makes it easier to pretend that Fang's in the shower with her when she runs soapy hands up her own body, dragging her nails back down.

She has one hand buried between her legs, fingers working and working in circles and the other teasing her breast, breathing in Fang's scent, when she realises that she can _hear_ Fang, humming to herself in the kitchen and fuck, _fuck_ , can Fang hear _her_ right now?

She manages to choke back Fang's name when she comes a fraction of a second later, slick splashing over her fingers as she shakes and shakes, but it's a near thing.

***

"Have a good shower?" Fang asks, one eyebrow quirked and a smirk on her face, and. _Fuck_.

***

Fang slides a plate of steaming food in front of her, smells all mixing together into a delicious mess.

"You eat that," she says. "I'm going to grab a shower of my own."

Lightning's halfway through wolfing down the food like she hasn't eaten in twenty four hours - what, she hasn't, okay? - when she thinks, Fang is in the _shower_.

Her hearing snaps abruptly into focus, just in time for Fang to let out a low moan, breathing fast. " _Lightning_ -" she groans out, and Lightning shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Fang is _exactly_ that kind of girl, and there's no way this isn't deliberate.

Payback's a _bitch_.

***

Fang stretches extravagantly when she emerges from the bathroom, snagging her own plate of food from the counter.

"You're right, that shower was _just_ the thing," she says, and tucks in like there's absolutely nothing going on.

She's going to drive Lightning _insane_.

***

"So," Lightning says when Fang's finished eating. "Plan. What are our objectives?"

"Rescue my sister," Fang says, ticking off on her fingers, "destroy their stock of my blood." She pauses, considering. "Fuck up as much as we can on the way out."

Lightning nods. "Great," she says. "Ideas?"

***

"That is a terrible idea," Lightning says.

"Got anything better?" Fang asks.

_Fuck_.

***

"We'll need a tonne of explosives," Lightning says.

"That's okay, I know a guy," Fang says.

"How many guys do you _know_?" Lightning says, and when Fang quirks an eyebrow at her, "Don't answer that."

***

There's not much to pack. Lightning has her gun; Fang, apparently, has two long knives. Lightning doesn't know what they're for - maybe for when she doesn't want to get her hands dirty, who knows.

They head out of the apartment, Fang boosts a bike, and they're off.

Lightning's on the back, knees pressing into the outside of Fang's thighs and arms wrapped around her. If she lets one hand sneak a little high, well.

Payback's a bitch.

***

Crossing the war lines is hilariously easy. Apparently the bulletin on Lightning hasn't made it to the front; she clears them through the Cocoon lines in about five minutes flat. It's an easy ride through no-man's land, and when they're approaching the Pulse lines Fang clears them through that in about ten.

"Where to now?" Lightning says, looking around them as the bike speeds them further into Pulse.

"Time to see a man about some explosives," Fang says.

***

His name is Hope. He'd been fourteen when friendly fire killed his mother, and from then on he'd made it his goal to fuck Pulse over in as many ways as possible.

"How'd you like to fuck them over even more?" Fang asks.

Hope smiles. He looks like the kind of guy you'd want to bring home to meet your parents; tall, handsome, maybe a little shy.

"For that, Fang," he says, "I'll give them to you half off."

***

Turns out Hope is one of the young rising stars in the Pulse magical science world. Bright, intelligent, and predicted to make Director in less than ten years.

Turns out Hope already has explosives planted through three quarters of the labs in Pulse, just waiting for the right time.

***

Hope hands over a small transmitter with a stubby black antenna. There's no blinking lights, just a two-combination inset button, so it can't be pressed accidentally.

"Seems like it's the right time," Hope says.

***

Fang makes the explosives disappear into various places around her body; the transmitter vanishes into her cleavage.

"Problem?" she asks, smirking.

Lightning wants to go and chase it. With her _teeth_ , fuck.

As one-ups go, though, it's a little weak.

***

Turns out, that wasn't Fang's one-up.

***

Fang's hands slides down Lightning's arms, fingers bracketing her wrists. Fang's chin hooks over Lightning's shoulder from behind, nose brushing her cheek.

"Ready?"

"Not really," Lightning says.

Fang snaps the cuffs on. They're snug around her wrists, one link of the short connecting chain replaced with matching wire. Lightning can be free at any time.

Fang's hand slides down over her hip, and Lightning's breath stutters.

"Can't leave you with this," Fang says, right in her ear, and snaps open her holster, removing her gun.

"Any other weapons I should know about?" Fang asks, and those are her _lips_ brushing Lightning's ear, fucking fuck.

It's an effort of will to keep her voice steady. "I have a boot knife," Lightning says.

Fang slides around her, and then there are hands on her hips and sliding down her legs as, fuck, Fang sinks gracefully to her knees.

"Which boot?" Fang asks, hands warm around Lightning's calves and her face an inch from Lightning's belt buckle.

Lightning's not going to be the one that cracks first. She's _not_.

"Left," she says, steady, and is definitely not disappointed when Fang pulls the knife and steps away.

Plausible deniability.

***

They march right in the front doors of the main Pulse magical science lab.

Well, _Fang_ marches. Lightning stumbles.

"Agent Yun, what are you-"

"Going to see the Director," Fang says, and Lightning can _hear_ the teeth in her voice. "Got him a little present."

***

"Agent Yun, this is _unprecedented_." The Director's voice is flat, harsh. "Explain yourself."

"Sir," Fang says, and if Lightning didn't know better she might think that Fang was being respectful. "Allow me to present to you the prize of Cocoon."

She pushes Lightning forward; with a hard shove she stumbles, sprawls onto the carpet on her knees. With her hands bound behind her back balance is hard, but she does manage to catch herself before she hits the floor with her face.

"This," Fang says, "is their latest test subject."

"I'm listening," the Director says.

***

They'd concocted the story back at Fang's maybe-apartment. Lightning would be Cocoon's latest test subject, injected with some bullshit and magically not insane, feral or exploded; able to be controlled, trained.

"He won't be able to resist," Fang had said. "Dysley's always wanted more. He wants more like me, but obedient to him. Controllable. If we pretend that the Cocoon assholes have managed to synthesise a variety of bullshit that does that-"

"This is a terrible idea," Lightning had said.

"Got anything better?" Fang had asked.

Thing is, it _is_ a terrible idea. Because it guarantees that they'll get separated; because there are too many variables that are out of their control.

Thing is, Lightning can't think of anything better, and the clock is ticking.

_Fuck_.

***

"So she's completely obedient?" Dysley asks. His tone makes her skin crawl.

Fang snorts. "Not at all," she says. "They hadn't gotten around to training her yet before I stole her from under their noses."

"But she can be trained," Dysley says.

"Yep," Fang says airily, and snaps her fingers. "Here girl!"

Lightning's going to kill her.

Instead, she pushes back to her feet, hunching her shoulders, and shuffles over to Fang.

"Good girl," Fang croons, and ruffles Lightning's hair. "She's gotten mostly used to me since I'm the one that stole her," she says to Dysley in a normal voice, "but I haven't had time to get very far."

"No, of course," Dysley says. "Agent Yun, you have done very well."

"Thank you sir," Fang says. "If I may, sir, I'd like to see my sister."

"I think that can be arranged," Dysley says. "Drop the subject off at the lab and then head to the gardens. I'll have her brought to you there."

"Thank you sir," Fang says.

***

The lab is pretty large, but it's the cages arrayed along one wall that really catch Lightning's attention.

"You'll be fine," Fang says to her, in front of the assholes and the security cameras. "I'll see you soon. I just need you to wait here for a bit."

Lightning whines in the back of her throat, and then steps into Fang, pressing against her.

"Shhh," Fang says, rubbing her back, stroking her hair. "You'll be fine, such a good girl." She lifts her chin to speak to the assholes over Lightning's shoulder. "Can you get the door to that cage for me?"

When Fang releases her, Lightning has half of the explosives stashed on her person.

***

She baulks at the cage door, but Fang's firm behind her, pushing her in. She doesn't know how Fang expects her to get out without using one of the charges.

"Good girl," Fang says to her again, and then her fingers are pressing against Lightning's, tapping on her fingernails. "Like butter," Fang breathes, and oh. That's how.

***

Fang leaves without looking back.

***

She sits docilely on the bench in the cage for her allotted fifteen minutes, watching the Pulse assholes bustle around the lab.

There are five of them, three at one workbench doing god knows what with some kind of science bullshit, microscopes and eye droppers and she doesn't care, and two of them further back, typing on separate terminals.

She'd feel sorry for them, but they're Pulse assholes; they know full well the kind of experimentation they're doing, and they don't care.

They're not going to know what hit them.

***

The chain between her wrists snaps silently at the weak link, and what do you know, Fang was right - her claws slice smooth right through the lock.

Turns out ripping someone's throat out is pretty easy.

***

"Where's the blood?" she demands of the one she left alive. She's got blood smeared across her mouth and up her wrists, and she's _alive_ , body humming with energy.

He's not stupid enough to try and pretend he doesn't understand what she means. "In the cool room, through that door-" he says, lifting a shaking hand to point to the right door. "Please-"

She throws him in one of the cages. One of the occupied cages.

Turns out, the test subject doesn't like him too much.

***

There are tubes and tubes of blood in the cool room, 500 years worth of experimentation borne from Fang's misfortune.

She smashes everything.

***

She's supposed to meet Fang in the garden, but the Pulse assholes aren't stupid; they were watching the security cameras.

She's forced higher and higher by the guards, setting charges as she goes, until finally she's on the roof, jamming the door behind her.

She dashes over to the side, and there they are, far below her; Fang and her sister - and someone else.

***

"-expected better of you," Dysley is saying, "but then I always knew your usefulness would come to an end."

Lightning's hearing is stretched to the limit, but she can hear them - Fang's steady heartbeat, a little faster than normal, and her sister's trembling breaths.

"Of course," Fang says. "That's what you were after the whole time, wasn't it? A viable replacement that would obey you without question."

"You never were very good at being a mindless dog," Dysley says. "Pity you brought me such an inferior specimen - put down now, of course."

" _What_ -" Fang says, low.

"We'll manage without you, of course," Dysley continues, smooth like she hadn't spoken. "I'm sure the Cocoon scientists worked hard on their test subject - we should be able to extract their formula from her corpse and-"

"I'm _here_ ," Lightning says, because Fang's heartbeat is rising. "Don't do anything _stupid_ -"

Fang takes a step away from her sister and _snarls_.

Dysley's hands come out from behind his back, and he's holding some kind of _gun_ -

Lightning jumps.

***

The wind through her hair is _amazing_. She's falling, fast, aiming toward the bad man. Below, the bad man says something else, and Leader says something back, snarling again, keeping carefully between the bad man and the stranger. 

It's not her place to question, but it's irrelevant in any case; Leader is protecting the stranger, and _she_ -

Her wings curve forward, directing and controlling her fall, and then she _slams_ into the bad man, boots hard into the back of his shoulders and bearing him face first into the ground.

She snarls in victory, one clawed hand tight against the back of his neck as she kneels astride his back, and looks to Leader for direction.

" _Lightning_ -" Leader breathes, fear/shock/relief woven through her scent, and doesn't say anything else.

She cocks her head, considering. The stranger steps out from behind Leader and oh, not a stranger after all, her scent rich with that tinge that identifies her as _pack_.

"Fang," packmate says, one hand on Leader's elbow, "she's feral."

Leader shakes her head sharply. "Yeah," she says, and looks straight at her. "Okay, Lightning. Keep him there."

She drops her head, snarling at the bad man. He's still alive, heart beating a slow rhythm, but she can smell the blood, thicker and thicker around him. He won't be alive for long.

Leader stands at his head, drawing one of her blades from her belt. "Good riddance, you son of a bitch," she says, and looks at her. "Move your hand."

She moves her hand.

***

Leader cuts his head off.

***

"Well," Leader says, "that's about it, hmm?"

She stands up from the still body beneath her and drifts over to Leader, breathing in her scent. It's intoxicating, and without thinking she presses herself against Leader's side, nose at her collarbone.

" _No_ ," Leader says, and shoves her away. 

She whines low in her throat, and Leader sighs, reaches one hand to touch her shoulder. "We'll discuss this later, when you're not feral."

Later's not a no, and she contents herself with that as Leader draws a slim black box from between her breasts.

"One last thing to do," Leader says.

She does something, and there's a soft two tone beep from the black box.

A moment later the lab just _explodes_.

***

The noise is deafening, and they're all thrown off their feet as the ground shakes.

"Time to go," Leader says, and she boosts packmate up onto her back. "Lightning," she says, and looks at her. "Do you remember how to fly?"

She bares her teeth and snarls at her - of _course_ she remembers how to fly. How does Leader think she got here?

"Okay, okay," Leader says, smiling, and between one blink and the next her own wings have appeared.

They leapt into the sky together.

***

Lightning wakes facedown on the rug, every muscle in her body aching.

"Oh, _fuck_ me," she groans.

***

There's no visible sign of Fang and her sister, although she can hear two heartbeats from the bedroom. Well, Lightning's covered in blood and _really_ wants a shower. They'll just have to deal.

She pushes the door open.

Fang's sister is sitting on the bed running a brush through her hair.

"She's in the shower," she says.

"...Oh," Lightning says. She really wants a shower, but if Fang's in the bathroom-

"She wouldn't mind if you joined her," Fang's sister adds.

"...What." Lightning says.

"Well, now that you're not feral anymore," Fang's sister adds.

Lightning feels the corner of her mouth turn up. "Can you cook?" she asks, and Fang's sister smiles.

***

She pushes open the bathroom door.

It's steamy inside, shower running. Fang's under the spray, head tilted back and hair a damp mass against her neck. Lightning's mouth goes dry as her eyes follow the droplets of water down Fang's back, over the curve of her ass and down her thighs.

She pulls open the shower door, and Fang starts to turn. "Are you-" she says, and stops abruptly, mouth falling open.

Lightning left all of her clothes in the bedroom.

***

"I'm not feral anymore," she says, trying to keep her eyes on Fang's face, but it's hard when she's just standing there, wet and naked. She has to keep jerking her eyes away from the swell of Fang's breasts, the muscles in her stomach, the dark hair between her legs.

Just not-looking at Fang like this, the anticipation, has her breathing a little faster. Her nipples are hardening, and she can feel slick gathering between her own legs.

The only consolation is that Fang seems to be having the same problem, squeezing her eyes closed and reopening them carefully on Lightning's face.

"I know you want me," and she does know, scent of arousal thick in the air from both of them. The last twenty four hours has been one tease after another, and she's done with that. "And I'm back in my right mind, and I want you."

Fang's losing the battle, eyes jerking down and then back up again. Her breath is coming a little faster too, heartbeat speeding up.

"I'm going to taste you," Lightning promises. "I'm going to get on my knees in this shower and put my tongue inside you."

Fang's breath hitches, and then she smirks, raising an eyebrow. "You're all talk," she says. "Why don't you come over here and show me instead?"

Lightning matches Fang's smirk with one of her own, and saunters into the shower, backing Fang up until her back hits the tile.

"I'm going to have you _begging_ ," she purrs.

She leans in and licks a stripe up the curve of Fang's breast, just a hint of teeth on her nipple before pulling back. Fang inhales sharply, shuddering.

In a mirror of Fang's move earlier in the day, Lightning puts one hand on each of Fang's breasts, scratching her nipples lightly, and then runs her hands down Fang's body as she sinks to her knees, holding her gaze. She ends up with her hands on Fang's hips, mouth an inch from her groin. Fang's breathing fast, fingers white where they're pressed to the tile, and just the hint of fangs in her mouth.

"Prove it," Fang says.

***

Turns out, Lightning only needs ten minutes.

***

"Please," Fang says, "Lightning, _please_ -"

Her fingers are all claws now, digging into the tile. Her head is thrown back, spine arched and legs trembling. Lightning has one hand pressed hard against Fang's hip, holding her up, and the other hand three fingers deep, hair tickling her nose as she works her tongue back and forth.

"Come on," Lightning says, pausing a moment so she can speak, "Fang, come _on_ -"

She risks lifting her supporting hand, sliding it up over Fang's side, and onto her breast, jutting out as her back arches. She thumbs the nipple, rubbing it between thumb and finger, and gives it a twist. Fang _whines_ , body shuddering.

She presses her fingers deep, rocking in, and grazes just the slightest hint of teeth over Fang and that's it, Fang's gone, shuddering as slick wetness trickles down Lightning's chin, coats her wrist.

" _Lightning_ -" Fang moans, and there's the different context for that shuddery moan she heard yesterday in the lift shaft, Fang shaking apart under her hands.

All up, it's the hottest fifteen minutes of Lightning's life.

***

Fang pulls her out of the shower and they tumble, still dripping wet, onto the bed. Lightning's slick between her thighs and aching for her own release, more then ready.

"Do you remember flying?" Fang says. "Can you bring your wings?"

"I want you to _touch me_ ," Lightning says, "not teach me shapeshifting."

"Oh, I'm going to touch you," Fang says, low. She rubs her nose against Lightning's inner thigh, eyes dark. "Trust me."

Lightning sits forward, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate past the pressure between her legs, Fang's fingers on her knees. She thinks: the lab; she thinks: falling; she thinks: the wind, tearing through her hair and over her feathers.

"There you are," Fang says, and Lightning opens her eyes to see her wings curving around her.

"What now?" Lightning asks.

***

_What now_ apparently involves her kneeling on the bed, Fang pressed up behind her, wings spread to either side between them.

"Are you ready?" Fang asks, hand roaming lightly over Lightning, leaving sparks in their wake; trailing across her stomach, down over a breast, nail just catching on the edge of her nipple, up her inner thigh.

"Ready for what?" Lightning says, breathless. She's already ready, wants Fang to stop teasing and just _touch her_ , although she's not ready to beg for it just yet.

Fang presses a kiss to the back of Lightning's neck, bites at her earlobe and breathes shivers into her ear. "Ready for this," Fang whispers, and then her mouth fastens onto the edge of her wing, where it meets her skin.

" _Ngh_ -"

***

It's like literal lightning up her spine, straight from Fang's mouth to Lightning's groin. She can feel herself shake against Fang, as she licks at her feathers, uses her teeth, pressure a slow-rising wave that builds and builds.

Fang's still just teasing her with her hands, light touches but never where she wants them, not in the heat between her legs.

"Fang," she gasps, letting her head fall back against Fang's. "Fang, _please_ , touch me, I need it-"

"I've got you," Fang says into her feathers, and then both her hands are moving, sure firm pressure. She twists both nipples, scratches her blunt human nails down Lightning's stomach until they reach the tangle of hair between her legs.

It's exactly what Lightning needs, Fang's fingers deft and steady. She's ready, so very ready, Fang slides two fingers in easy, slick and smooth, while her other hand starts working away in circles.

It takes almost no time at all, and then that slow-rising wave isn't so slow anymore; is cresting, fast. Fang licks a slow line up the joint of her wing, then digs her teeth in and _bites_ , and just like that, the wave breaks, taking Lightning along with it. She can feel her body shaking apart against Fang, spine arching without her permission.

This time, there's no need for silence, but Lightning's too busy gasping for breath to say anyone's name.

***

When she can breathe again, Fang's trailing slick fingers over her skin, back to light touches.

"What," Lightning says, "was _that_." Forget bringing Fang over the edge with her mouth and fingers; _that_ was the hottest fifteen minutes of Lightning's life, no contest.

Fang hooks her chin over Lightning's shoulder; in her peripheral vision, Lightning can see the edge of Fang's smirk.

"Wings are sensitive," Fang says.

"What, that's it?" Lightning says, and Fang nods.

Lightning thinks of her wings, thinks: no, and they're gone. She twists under Fang's hands, tackling Fang down onto the bed.

"Bring yours out," Lightning demands. "I want-"

"Anything you want," Fang says, wings blinking into existence on either side of her shoulders, pressed into the sheets.

Lightning buries her fingers in Fang's feathers, and rides out the shift in Fang's body as she arches underneath her, breath catching.

"I know," Lightning says smugly.

***

When they finally stumble out of the bedroom, barely clothed and reeking of sex and each other, Fang's sister pushes two plates of lukewarm food over to them with a big smile.

"Hi!" she chirps. "My name's Vanille. Welcome to the pack!"

Pack, huh. Lightning pulls her plate closer and picks up her fork. That doesn't sound so bad.

***

Turns out, it's way past _not so bad_. It's the _best_.


End file.
